Shadows of the Heart
by General Peaches
Summary: Darkness spreads across Sanctuary as a Dark Wanderer walks the world. Will a troubled Necromancer and Druid be able to stop the spread of darkness? Or will the shadows of their pasts lead the world to ruin?
1. Prologue

Well this is the prologue to my first fanfic. I know it's not the most interesting prologue but it's mainly there to inform people who didn't play the first game. Please R&R

Disclaimer: I do not own the Diablo franchise.

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><p>The clatter of steel against stone rang out, as another corrupt knight collapsed to the ground, his head falling a short distance away. The warrior looked ahead, a slight smirk lighting the features on his dirtied face. He was nearing the end of his journey, and he became increasingly aware of a strong demonic presence as he ventured deeper into the flame filled pits hidden deep beneath the town of Tristram.<p>

It had been a grueling task for him to reach this goal, and having waded through countless hordes of all manners of dark minions, he was relieved to find that his quest would be over soon. As he approached the final room, he entered a defensive stance, wishing to prevent any damage that would result from a sneak attack. To his chagrin, a surprise attack was not what awaited him in the final room, as the Dark Lord stood before him, a menacing smile encroaching upon his face.

"I **have been awaiting your arrival mortal,**" the demon spoke, his voice laced with confidence, "**You have no hope of defeating me here, and once I destroy you, I shall spread terror throughout Sanctuary, until all serve me!**"

"You are wrong demon, you shall perish here beneath Tristram, and peace shall return to the world again!" the warrior shouted back, but while he tried to sound confident his voice betrayed a hint of doubt.

The red skinned demon simply laughed in response, a horrible laugh that echoed through the warrior's mind, filling him with horror. The man's resolution almost faltered, but he regained his composure and charged forward, sword raised for a strike. The demon's eyes widened slightly, mildly shocked at the brash action of the hero, but the shock on his face was soon replaced by a smile.

"**You charge to your death mortal, there can be no victory for you here!**"

The demon raised his hands and began chanting words in a demonic tongue, and soon fire appeared in the warrior's path. The warrior dodged, and began a swing trying to sever the demon's arm, but the blow was quickly parried by one of the spikes protruding from his arm. He lashed out at the warrior with his claws, but the warrior blocked the blow, and countered with a quick slash at his legs. The blade found its mark, and it bit into the demon's hide, drawing blood but causing no severe damage.

"**Not bad mortal, but it will take more than a scratch to slay me!**"

The Lord of Terror swung one of his arms, and while the warrior managed to block, his footing gave way as he was flung into a nearby wall. A gasp escaped the warrior as he hit the wall, losing grip of his shield, but just managing to keep his sword. The demon leaped into the air, and the fighter rolled to the side to avoid being cornered. Upon landing, the demon deftly struck at the warrior with his claws. Despite the warrior's efforts, the demon's strike connected, opening a gash in the hero's leg. The hero struggled to his feet, only to find his wounded leg could not support his weight.

"**This battle is over human, I have won!**" the demon's eyes lit up with the satisfaction of his victory, and he closed in to deal the final blow.

The warrior, unable to stand, was slumped on the ground, thinking of a way to win this fight. As the demon neared, victory seemed all to certain for the terrible demon, when suddenly the fighter lashed out, striking the demon in the heart. The demon's eyes widened, and his glance fell upon the sword shoved through his chest. He staggered, confused as to how he was in this much pain.

"**How can this be! This wound from a mortal weapon is far from fatal!**" the demon gasped as he fell to one knee.

Silently, the hero struggled to his feet, wincing as pain shot through his injured leg. He carefully made his way to the demon, stopping before him.

Raising his sword, the warrior spoke, voice laced with malice, "This is Doombringer, and its powers are quite capable of defeating a pitiful creature such as you!"

He brought the sword down on the demon, slicing once more through his chest, before collapsing next to the corpse.

He searched his bag and found, to his delight, that one of his health potions remained. He chugged the potion, ignoring the desire to gag that resulted from the bitterness of the fluid. His wound closed and he stood, his dark hair matted to his head with blood and sweat. He glanced over the corpse, until his gaze fixed upon a gleaming red object in the demon's skull. Taking his knife from the belt he removed the stone, and as he held it he heard voices creeping into his mind.

"This must be the object that contains Diablo's spirit," the man reasoned, "it would be dangerous to simply leave it below Tristram once more."

While he pondered this new puzzle, the voices began to speak more clearly into his mind, becoming louder each moment.

_Only you can stop him for good. Quickly! Contain his spirit within your body; you have the power to subdue him!_

Grasping the stone, the warrior shoved the stone into his skull, and believing the demon contained, found a cloak to wear. Pulling the hood up to conceal the stone, he opened a portal to Tristram, and stepped through to greet the cheering citizens. All the joy was drowned out however, by the incessant voices within his mind, struggling to gain control.


	2. Chapter 1: The Arrival

So this is the first actual chapter to my fanfic (ignoring the prologue). I realize my writing isn't great but I hope you will enjoy. Please R&R.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Diablo franchise.

**A/N: **I will never upload multiple chapters like this again. I'm only doing so now because I already have these done.

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><p>Peace had returned to the town of Tristram, but in the end it was short lived. Within weeks of defeating the Lord of Terror, the hero began to lose control, his ability to contain Diablo's soul weakening with every passing day. As he was sitting in the Rogue Monastary, Diablo finally managed to gain complete control over his vessel, and demons were coming through the floors and from the flames as the fire imps spread the fire. Fortunately, this control was short lived, and the hero managed to contain the demon's spirit once more, but he was running out of time and he knew it. Desperation drove him to the lands of the east, to the Aranoch Desert.<p>

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><p>It had been several weeks since Laurana had began her pilgrimage, and she was optimistic about the opportunities that lay before her. However, she began to have this feeling of dread within the last few days, and the closer she got to reaching her goal the stronger the feeling became. She looked at her surroundings, troubled by the darkness encompassing the area despite knowing that it was still midday. She couldn't help but feel that this dread and the persisting darkness were somehow connected.<p>

She was brought out of her thoughts by the sound of paws drawing closer. She turned to see two wolves walking closer to her, no doubt having gone hunting for food. Knowing they would understand she spoke to them, "A being of great malicious power has been here, and I'm beginning to have my doubts about being able to stop it."

Her wolves started growling at some unseen presence, but she herself was able to detect them as a result of her training in Scosglen. Scanning the area, she saw the demons begin to approach, and they easily outnumbered Laurana and her wolves ten to one. They charged in, confident that they could overwhelm their newly found prey and walk away with the spoils.

Fortune did not smile upon this group of Fallen however and when the first of the small red demons almost got within reach of Laurana one of the wolves pounced and tore at the creature's neck, and the body was left to twitch and spasm while blood poured from the wound.

The group of demons backed away in fear and it seemed like they planned to flee, but that suspicion was short lived as they regrouped and started to move in again. They proceeded more cautiously this time, and when they were ready to attack they attacked in groups.

Despite their numbers, the demons were struggling since they would flee anytime one of their comrades fell. Things were looking up for Laurana, but just as victory began to get close it was snatched away as large figures began to lumber towards her.

These new foes were much stronger than the previous demons, and it was evident that their large muscular frames would be able to take a beating before they would be stopped. Their bodies were covered in fur except for their hands, feet, and face.

She had just finished dealing with the Fallen by the time these Gargantuan beasts had closed in, and one of her wolfs bit ferociously into the leg of one of the beasts. However, the beast simply swung one of its tree trunk arms at the wolf, catching it in the side and sending it flying.

Much to Laurana's chagrin, the creature didn't seem the least bit fazed by the attack either. _This is going to be harder than I thought. I hope nothing else shows up after these creatures,_ she thought to herself. She heard a faint shuffling coming from behind her, gritting her teeth as she turned to see what caused the disturbance.

Her face fell when she saw the cause. _You can't be serious... there's got to be at least ten more of these damned creatures! We haven't even brought down the first, how are we supposed to take even more of them?_

As her despair grew, the realization hit her. _This is it, I'm going to die here!_ As the despair began to engulf her, she felt like her mind was unraveling, and she lost consciousness.

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><p>Laurana sat up, confused as to where she was. She couldn't quite recall how she came to be in the tent, but decided to look around. As she opened the tent flap gingerly, rain began bombarding her face, the wind chilled by the falling water.<p>

Then it came to her, she had been heading west in her pilgrimage, when she was ambushed by monsters. She had managed to fight them off, until some large creatures showed up. _I passed out, so what happened after that? Shouldn't I be dead? How did I manage to survive? How did I end up here?_ Looking down she examined her body to be certain she wasn't terribly injured. To her relief, she found herself largely uninjured, with the exception of a few small wounds wrapped in bandages.

Before leaving the tent she looked around for her clothes, made from animal pelts, and found them bundled in a corner. Along with her clothes she found her bag, and upon examination everything was there. _Well at the very least I know I haven't been stolen from_.

Donning her furs, she exited the tent. She wandered to the large campfire at the center of the camp, the flames dancing jovially, spreading their warmth to the area around it.

"So you've finally returned to the land of the living" a voice called from beside the fire, a hint of laughter barely noticeable.

Laurana turned to the source of the voice, peering through her chocolate brown hair to find a man in the prime of his life, his dark hair kept beneath a grey turban. He was of average height, and he seemed rather cheery despite the water that drenched his blue and grey garbs.

"Who are you?" she questioned, not entirely certain that this man could be trusted, despite his generous demeanor.

"Ah, forgive me, I seem to have forgotten my manners" the man chuckled silently, "my name is Warriv, I run a caravan that travels between the Rogue Monastery and the Jewel of the Desert Lut Gholein. I was on my way here when I came across you unconscious, so I brought you here."

She nodded slightly before replying, "If that is the case than is appears I owe you my gratitude."

"Think nothing of it, I'm just glad you're not injured" Warriv replied, a smile stretched across his face. He continued, a hint of concern in his voice, "I just hope that you don't plan to do anything foolish. Akara seems more troubled than usual as of late, and I can't help but feel that something dark is approaching…"

"That is quite enough Warriv, you need not worry our guest with such dark tidings," a voice sang from behind, the pitched tinged with melancholy.

Laurana shifted her gaze to the woman behind her. Before her was a slender woman, wearing a black gown with a purple cloak draped across her shoulders. There were dark circles beneath her eyes, left from nights with little sleep.

"Akara you should consider asking her for help, she seems capable of holding her own against a couple hell spawn" Warriv said to the woman.

The frown on her face deepened as she glared at Warriv, obviously disapproving of his idea. Warriv held her gaze without flinching, and she broke first, averting her gaze as concern gained control of her features.

Just then Laurana broke the silence, "If there's something I can do I would be more than happy to help. It's the least I can do to repay you for your hospitality."

"You see Akara! She wants to help; it would be rude to refuse her offer to aid you" a triumphant smile on his face.

Akara's shoulders dropped in resignation, and she actually seemed more tired if that was possible.

"Very well then, if that is what you wish" she began her voice gaining strength, "I've received reports recently that dark forces are amassing in a cave called the Den of Evil. I believe they plan to attack this encampment very soon, so if you truly wish to help us, clear the Den of the creatures that inhabit it" at this her voice seemed naught but a whisper, her reluctance almost silencing her despite her desperation.

A smile crossed Laurana's lips as she said "Excellent, I will prepare to depart immediately."

She disappeared into the tent that she had awakened in not long ago, and returned with a short sword. She approached the bridge leading out of the camp and sat down. The wind began to stir, and soon there were miniature whirlwinds concentrating into small areas. The gusts began to take the shape of wolves and ravens. Once the wind had died down, she stood and found two ashen wolves and five jet black ravens. Without another word, she crossed the bridge into the wilderness, the animals following behind.


End file.
